Easter Sunday

Conflicted by Liberation

Dreams of Victory

For Yemen

Dead eyes see nothing,
for life has gone from their bodies.

Their blood mixes with the dust
as the Earth tries to cover our shame.

The broken bodies of unjust wars,
their silence goes unnoticed by many.

You fear the ghosts of the dead,
yet you turn away as bombs kill the living.

A selective concern for war,
there is always a right side and a wrong side.

Funnelled news distorts your mind,
thinking too deeply cuts into internet shopping.

You curse Russia for the war in Ukraine,
yet you don’t know where Yemen is on a map.

Ashes and Angst

We were kind, and we were good,
for our lives were not very good when we were younger.

Rumours of wars and postulating,
for we were never calm enough to say there was no fear.

The old stories from long ago,
old tales recent enough now that we are older and wiser.

Buying a colourful apartment,
for we were going to begin our eternity linked in this place.

We loved for a few years here,
the prospect of a miracle on the horizon quite soon, you say.

The morning snow fell heavy,
for we now had the perfect excuse to stay in bed all day.

Entwined in a warm embrace,
for we could feel something terrible would soon arrive.

The ashes and angst to come;
we would not be part of the atrocities our country faced.

We lay together in this place,
for we never felt death touch us in our linked eternity.